Under The Light Of The Moon

Time of the month...

Said El Jefe knowingly with a slight incline of his head at me.

Eh, Who's time of the month? I sneaked a hand under the table and gave myself a quick poke in the nadgers. Two testicles, all present and accounted for, definitely not MY time of the month.

What do you mean?

I asked the Jefe-Monster.

He grunted and jerked his head in the direction of the serving person who had just plopped our coffees down in front of us.

A man can tell.

He tapped the side of his nose and chuckled, a low and horrid sounding thing as if he were cleaning an old woman's pantry with a dirty cloth.

Her? Oh no, I am fairly certain that it is not her dabby-doos.

I clucked confidently.

You mean you didn't notice?

Notice what?

I said with a sigh that was so sighous it was probably a Prince of sighs.

The perfume? Heavy perfume, hmmm?

El Jefe leaned in toward me and gave me a nudge.

I smelt perfume yes, it was quite nice actually.

El Jefe bounced back in his chair as if I had thrown a volleyball made of contempt and faeces at him.

Don't you know anything about the fairer sex?

He asked, referring to females as the fairer sex in a way that implied he had zero knowledge of the fairer sex.

I have dabbled, yes.

I replied noncommittally.

I was getting a trifle bored of the conversation. It had morphed from a simple, meeting the boss to tell him I was ready to return to work after a bit of a long absence, to a critique on ladies and their scentage.

Well, let me let you into a secret. A big old man secret that all men should know.

El Jefe chuckled at his throbbing mannity before looking around to make sure there were no half-men eavesdropping on the man-bomb he was about to drop.

Women, as in women who are menstrual wear lots of heavy perfume to cover the scent!

He said this last with a flourish as if dispatching the last of the King's assassins with his fabled blade hoddit.

Lol.

I lol'd.

You really think that there is such a meaty, bone-deep stench from women on their dabby-doos that they have to mask it with perfume. For gawd sake, man. Give yourself a shake?

I shook my head at El Jefe and his daft notions.

Well, you can say what you want but it's the truth. She is reeking of perfume so she is obviously having her 'time.'

Retorted El Jefe sulkily, giving his coffee a huffy stir.

She is not having a period.

I stated emphatically.

What makes you the expert all of a sudden?

Sneered the Jefe-alump.

I leaned forward.

I am fairly sure that she is a Trans person, as in someone who is male but transitioning to female. Therefore, no dabby-doos.

El Jefe shot upright as if electrified.

A tranny?!

He hissed, turning around and staring aghast at her before turning back.

Do you think it's wearing a tampon then?

I stared at him as if he had just asked me to smell his balls.

I give up.